


>June: Hatch.

by Kebs



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Pesterlog(s) (Homestuck), Pre-Transition Trans Woman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22082242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kebs/pseuds/Kebs
Summary: That Egbert kid has a lot of issues. Luckily, her friend is usually there to lend a hand.
Relationships: John Egbert/Rose Lalonde, June Egbert/Rose Lalonde
Comments: 9
Kudos: 44





	>June: Hatch.

Your name is JOHN EGBERT. And you are NOT OKAY.

It is the eve of your THIRTEENTH BIRTHDAY, which is a very real idea and not total bullshit. You’ve been stuck at home today while your DAD is at his cool magician job or whatever. You have been passing the time the ways you usually do: writing BAD CODE, practicing your SLEIGHT-OF-HAND, and staring out your window waiting for the little red arm-swingy-dealy on the mailbox to flip up. All of these have been going as well as they usually do, which is to say, NOT AT ALL.

You are bored out of your mind! You know the beta for that new game you and your friends are waiting for is supposed to come soon, but when! How is any of this code supposed to compile!! Why won’t the fucking ACE OF SPADES stay up your goddamn sleeve!!! The futility of your efforts strikes you to your very core, you think to yourself as you flop onto your funny ghost bed.

You decide to try a new tactic to keep your mind occupied: messaging one of your CHUMS. You have met a variety of CHUMS through the internet. That is to say, you have met three kids about your age. Right now though, only one of them is logged on.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] \--  
  
EB: hey!  
EB: are you doing anything right now?  
TT: I’m working on an incredibly important project actually.  
TT: The fate of the world might hang in the balance.  
EB: no shut up i do not have time for your shenanigans!  
TT: There are no shenanigans here. The task currently at my fingertips controls the very fabric of reality. If it does not receive my full attention worlds may collapse.   
TT: Cities may fall. Oceans may rise. Hope may not survive.  
EB: we both know that i am an absolute sucker for your deep impact references but there is something even more deadly than that to deal with!  
TT: Oh? What’s that?  
EB: i’m bored as fuck!  
TT: I see.  
EB: you have to help me out of this funk. none of my regular methods are working.  
TT: You still can’t get the ace up your sleeve, can you.  
EB: no and it sucks!  
TT: I don’t see how I can be of any help to you in your entertainment endeavors. Not only am I occupied at the moment, we have the entire landmass of the continental United States between us.  
TT: I’m not sure I can offer more than a paltry bit of company.  
EB: ha ha that’s fine. that’s all I really wanted anyway.  
EB: so what ARE you doing huh?  
EB: describe it a little less dramatically this time.  
TT: I’m working on something.  
EB: on what?  
TT: An item.  
EB: that describes almost everything on earth.  
TT: An important item. Does that help?  
EB: no!  
EB: come on what is it?  
TT: If you really must know, I’m writing a letter.  
EB: to??  
TT: You.  
EB: ha ha what?  
TT: To accompany your birthday present.  
TT: Which, I’m actually ashamed to admit, won’t be arriving on time.  
TT: Due to the fact that it is still sitting in the corner of my room, unwrapped.  
TT: I’m sorry, John. I had meant to tell you sooner, but the twin grips of remorse and shame kept me from admitting my grievous error until pressed. You of all people deserve better than to be kept in the dark by your friend over something as trivial as an offering of annual celebration.  
EB: rose stop!  
EB: stop typing whatever dumb thing you’re typing!  
EB: ha ha oh my god rose its fine!  
TT: I thought you might say that. It really doesn’t change how I feel.  
EB: well it should!  
EB: it’s my present right?  
EB: if it’s my present then i get to decide when i want it.   
EB: and it turns out that when I want it is...   
EB: whenever!  
EB: it could come in fifty fucking years and i’d still be like “dang rose got me a present? for my thirteenth birthday?? that was like fifty entire years ago so i now have serious questions about the efficiency of the us postal service but that’s still cool!”  
EB: those would be my exact words. verbatim.  
TT: I didn’t know you knew that word.  
EB: please, i am a magician not a dumbass.  
TT: You certainly had me fooled.  
EB: wow thanks!  
TT: Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.  
TT: That’s very nice of you to say. Thank you.  
EB: i mean, it’s not like i’m going anywhere any time soon.  
EB: i’ll probably still be trapped here shooting cards out of my ass when your present shows up next week, or next month or whenever.  
TT: I’ll do my best to make sure the package arrives before you have to resort to sticking playing cards anywhere near your ass.  
EB: thanks, rose. i always knew i could count on you.  
EB: so if you’re not gonna have the package ready in time for my birthday...  
EB: you should probably send me a picture of it right now.  
TT: Absolutely not.  
EB: weren’t you just going on about how much it pains you to not give your friend his present on time?  
TT: And weren’t you just going on about how that feeling is a hot, steaming load?  
EB: you’re right, i changed my mind.  
EB: i absolutely need that present right now.  
TT: You’re a real bastard, Egbert.  
TT: One moment.  
\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] is now an idle chum! --  
TT: <http://tinyurl.com/0412gift>  
EB: i think it is you who is the bastard.  
TT: Why, whatever do you mean?  
EB: i can’t see shit in this picture.  
TT: Damn, my fingers must have slipped to cover the surprise present I’m still finishing for you. The surprise present which a picture of the items included in said present would render the adjective attached to it, namely, “surprise”, utterly meaningless.  
TT: How silly of me! I shall descend further into my well of humiliation until I am able to forgive myself for such an egregious faux pas.  
EB: well, i guess at least i know you’re using your squiddles paper?  
EB: that’s kind of lame.  
TT: They’re leftovers from my younger days.  
EB: rose we are thirteen years old.  
TT: I am thirteen years old. You are still stuck in those throes of transience known as tweenhood.  
TT: I thought you might enjoy it, along with the large plastic keys I’m including to soothe your aching baby gums.  
EB: har har, very funny.  
EB: there’s got to be something worth talking about in this picture...  
TT: There really isn’t.  
TT: The layout of this image was constructed with the sole intent of giving you a complete dearth of information. A void so featureless, so lacking in style and substance, that you would finally get bored of talking to me. Then, I could go back to actually finishing your birthday present.  
TT: Which I am still trying to do.  
EB: well, miss coolgirl photogenius, in all your planning you missed one important detail.  
EB: your nails look nice!  
TT: Excuse me?  
EB: your fingernails? on your hands?  
EB: please don’t tell me when you filled up your brain with camera stuff you forgot what hands are.  
TT: I am still vaguely aware of these strange protuberances stretching from the ends of my arms, as well as the chitinous surfaces found at the ends of their own tubular extensions.  
TT: I just wasn’t expecting you to mention them. Thank you.  
EB: i like the color.  
TT: You mean, black?  
EB: it’s a good black!  
TT: As much as I would love to question you about the implied existence of other, lesser blacks, it did take me quite a while to track this particular shade down.  
EB: wait really? i was just making stuff up.  
TT: One does not come across Ntanylogoth’s Pupil at your corner drugstore. I made a purchase from a specialty shop in the furthest reaches of the dark internet, or “deepweb” if you prefer, using every arcane trick in my deep well of eldritch knowledge. Bodies sacrificed, blood spilled, fragile minds rent asunder.  
TT: Even my own mind is twisted beyond repair, but my nails do look quite nice, so I’d say it was all worth it.  
EB: did you use your mom’s credit card?  
TT: Obviously.  
EB: nice.  
EB: so like, how do you do it?  
TT: Surrender my mind to the unknowable edges of existence?  
EB: no, the nail stuff.  
EB: do you just, like, paint it on?  
EB: do you have to buy a tiny brush or something?  
TT: The tiny brush comes with the polish, actually.  
EB: that’s weird.  
TT: It’s economic.  
TT: The brush is affixed to the bottom of the cap so that it rests in the polish when not in use. Then, when cap is unscrewed from the bottle, the technicians in charge of keeping you very slightly dissatisfied with every aspect of their product have ensured there’s just slightly too much polish for you to do anything with.  
TT: So you dab a small amount on the lip of the bottleneck, then actually begin painting.  
TT: If you’re so interested, I’d be happy to show you how it’s done.  
EB: haha what? ew no thanks!  
EB: one, we live on opposite sides of the country. two, im a boy.  
TT: And?  
EB: boys don’t wear nail polish?  
TT: John, it’s 2009. I know you’re still firmly ensconced within your own prepubescence, but please grow up a little.  
EB: whatever. i am just saying that it’s weird when boys wear nail polish.  
TT: Why?  
EB: because it’s a girl thing? not a boy thing?  
TT: And what is a “boy thing”?  
EB: uh, i don’t know. computers and stuff?   
EB: sports? dave loves to talk about sports, in his own ironic kind of way.  
TT: You are aware there are women’s sports leagues, right?  
TT: And that many of the pioneers in computer science were also, in fact, women?  
EB: well yeah, sure, but that’s different.  
TT: Is it?  
EB: hey wait a minute.  
EB: you’re doing your therapy bullshit aren’t you!  
TT: I’m just asking questions, John.   
TT: I am a genteel country farmer, plowing the fertile field of discussion, making ready the loam for the sleeping grain of your own subconscious. Which, with careful watch and daily care, may one day yield a bountiful harvest of introspection and personal healing.  
TT: You’re the one throwing seeds around like a batshit farmhand.  
EB: whatever, i’m done talking about this.  
EB: it would be weird if you painted my nails, that’s all.  
TT: Unless I’m mistaken, I didn’t offer to paint your nails, did I?  
TT: I simply offered to demonstrate the techniques and/or methodologies of the art for you, not to use your fingers as the canvas.  
TT: Though, I am sure a little polish would look very becoming on you.  
TT: Perhaps a cerulean or a royal blue, to match your text? Or maybe a lime green to go with that ghost shirt you like so much?  
EB: HAHAHA VERY FUNNY.  
EB: I AM LAUGHING A LOT RIGHT NOW.  
EB: HA HA. HEE HEE. HOO HOO.  
TT: Your personal insecurities aside, the offer I didn’t make still stands.  
EB: HAHAHAHAHA OKAY ROSE GOTTA GO SUCK AT MAGIC AGAIN BYE  
  
\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] –-

You force yourself to stop thinking about all this horseshit. Clearly Rose is just unaware of your large and manly MANLINESS stat, full to the brim with DUDENESS and GUYITUDE. You think more about how cool and not at all girly you are as you sit down in the middle of your room and try to stuff the ACE OF SPADES up your sleeve at a slightly different angle. It falls out almost instantly.

You let yourself fall backwards and stare at the ceiling. Rose was probably just saying all that stuff to get you off her case so she could keep finishing your present, right? She wouldn’t ACTUALLY suggest that she would do that? Or that it would even look... good?

You stretch your arm out in front of you, palm of your hand pointed toward the ceiling, fingers splayed.

Your name is JOHN EGBERT. And you are definitely NOT OKAY.

**Author's Note:**

> _hey hey! this is my first time writing fanfic and of course: its junerose. i started this as an exercise in capturing character voice and in me remembering how much i like early homestuck, i had a lot of fun doing it so i'm gonna see if i can't continue doin this. thanks for reading and hope you stick around for the ride!_
> 
> _rose's shitty webcam pic[(and this bonus illustration🤫)](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/531014826307223553/662191499148001280/image0.png) is courtesy of my friend grace, you can follow her on [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/_gracehobson_/), and both her [regular](https://twitter.com/_gracehobson_) and [homestuck](https://twitter.com/vrrrrrrrriska) flavored twitters._
> 
> _and you can follow me on[tumblr](http://daihenshin.tumblr.com), if you want._


End file.
